One Plus Two Equals Three
by kressn
Summary: Don works himself into exhaustion and comes home for some respite. I was binge-watching Numb3rs over the holiday break and this came to mind.


_**So I've been watching reruns of Numb3rs on HULU and I figured being the New Year and all, maybe I would do something "new" and write a Fan Fiction for an old favorite. Hope it turns out OK. Cheers!**_

 _ **Note: This assumes the events occur during present time (2018).**_

Don was tired, actually he had past tired about two days ago, now he was just exhausted; he knew his limits ( _even though his father seemed to think he did not_ ), and he knew he needed to stop and take a rest before his body truly betrayed him; he was already fighting off dizziness as he walked out into the parking garage towards his car earlier that evening. He also could not really remember the last time he ate anything more than coffee, or actually more than coffee with his sugar ( _was sugar food?)._ He meant to drive to his apartment as he pulled out of the FBI's lot, he really did, but somehow he just went into automatic mode and now he was sitting on his dad's ( _nope, his brother's …that was still hard to get used to…_ ) driveway at 2 in the morning; yep, this was going to take some explaining…

Don rubbed a hand over his face and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers fighting back the ache that had settled on his forehead, brought on by a combination of exhaustion, lack of food evidently and the gun that hit him in the head after the suspect they had been chasing managed to somehow get behind him long enough to drop him with the butt of his gun, which was further evidence to Don that his limits had been reached; he normally did not let some strung-out thug get one over on him. He stared at his childhood home from his driver's seat and could not help but sigh, he _was_ glad Charlie had bought the house, he really was, he loved this house, his mother loved this house, and so keeping it in the family was nice.

Don looked at his phone; wow, January 1st 2018, he somehow had missed the whole New Year's thing, it was 2:17 AM on January 1st, 2018. His team had worked through the night as well, all doing their jobs as well as they always did, so none of them had had a chance to even stop and notice the changing of the year…hum…he made a note to ask the Director for a week off for them all, they had certainly earned it by taking down not just these last ring of counterfeiters, but also the last 3 cases all of which had been brutal, back to back, no rest for the weary type of cases. His stomach grumbled as he looked down on it annoyed, he knew he needed to eat, there was no need for theatrics or onomatopoeia from his body to remind him…god he was tired… He placed his hands on top of the steering wheel and then laid his throbbing head on them, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath trying to still the again wavering horizon.

He was startled awake ( _when did he fall asleep?)_ by a knock on his driver's side window. He looked up to find his father staring at him, saying something and pointing, but his mind was too fuzzy from exhaustion and ironically, sleep, to follow what his father was saying. He rubbed his hand over his face again, trying to clear his head some and then turned the ignition on enough to where he could roll the window down. "Hey dad!" he said, or at least that is what he tried to say, his voice was harsh and weak so it came out more like "e..d'a", he cleared his throat and tried again, sounding more like English this time; "Hey Dad, good morning" ( _better, much better…)_

"Donnie, what in the world are you doing out here at this hour?" His father was not happy, nope, not happy at all, he could tell not only by the tone of his voice but also that little vein in his forehead that seem to grow to about 3 times its size when he was upset…great, why do people have that vein anyway? He had it, and his brother has it he knew, and many others he knew had it, but not too many had the ability to make it grow like his father…"Donnie!" his father's raised voice startled him out of his mind's rambling he was not even aware he had drifted off ….god he was tired…

"Um I came over to catch a nap before heading back to my apartment; sorry I did not mean to wake you" He looked at his father for signs that the elder Epps was OK with that explanation. "How long son of mine, have you been out here?" Busted! Don sighed and grabbed for his phone to check the time, 7:38 AM, crap! " _Um, about 5 hours_ " he mumbled quietly, maybe he could slide that one past his father. "What was that?" ( _No such luck_ ), "About 5 hours, **_sir_** " ( _Sir? What the hell, he was acting like he was 17 and just got caught breaking curfew; why his father still had that effect on him who was damn near 40 he still was trying to figure out, I mean, he did not even live here anymore_ ) "Five hours!" His dad yelled, Don flinched.

"OK son, come on out of the car come inside, you look like you need to sleep in a bed for about a week" his father opened his door and grabbed his arm, tugging at it to get Don to start exiting the Suburban. Don nodded, rolled the window back up, took the keys out of the ignition and stepped out, in theory a good idea but he found that his body and his mind had two different agendas and his body's was to collapse upon itself the moment he tried to actually move, his legs felt like noodles, his head was swimming, his vision blurry, his ears were ringing and his stomach, although empty, joined the party by doing a few somersaults in protest; had it not been for his father's grip on his arms Don would have fallen face-first onto the driveway's unforgiving pavement.

"Donnie!" he heard his father's worried voice, "Son, hold on kid, I've got you", then he heard him yell "Charlie, son, come out here now!" Don was not sure why Charlie needed to come outside, hum, maybe his father needed help with some math equations he thought, no that is not right…damn he was tired…he needed to focus, focus on walking, yep, that would be good, walking, anytime now he would start putting one foot in front of the other and he would be walking, inside Charlie's house, then onto the soft warm couch and he would lie down and close his eyes and sleep for a week, yep… anytime now…but first he was going to take a little nap, right here, right now evidently, he thought as everything went black, he would have normally fought the blackness, but he was so tired…

"How is he doing?" Charlie asked his father as he walked into the living room where his brother was lying on the couch, out cold still, and his father was sitting in vigil on the chair beside him.

"He is still out cold, I'm not sure, maybe we should take him to the clinic?" Alan was a sensible, level-headed man, but when it came to his kids, he was an over-protective Papa-Bear, and seeing his eldest son collapse in his arms out in the driveway was not something he would care to repeat, so maybe having the boy ( _man…he is a grown man_ ) checked out may be a good idea, (even if he knew Don would be upset with him for it); he looked at his youngest as he spoke, "he has been **_out_** for 12 hours Charlie!"

Charlie was worried about his brother, Don was a force of nature, an excellent FBI agent, son, brother, friend, but Don had a tendency to forget he was also human and so Charlie understood where his father was coming from when he said maybe they should take his brother to see a doctor. Being out cold for this long was not normal for Don Epps; he frowned and shook his head; "why don't we try to wake him up again, like really wake him and see, if we can't then yeah, we probably should call someone" ( _they had been able to rouse his brother slightly throughout the 12 hours after he and his father had carried him from the driveway into the house, only long enough_ _to make him drink some water and take some Tylenol for the slight fever he seemed have_ ).

Charlie had been sipping coffee on the couch, reading the paper when he heard his father's voice yelling for him to come outside, he looked out the window as he stood to run outside and saw his brother's car in the driveway; he knew then that whatever was happening involved Don. As he ran towards his father he saw him holding his brother, unconscious in his arms. "Don?" he yelled as he approached them, "Dad what is going on? What is wrong with Don?" he asked as he reached them both.

"He was in his car all night Charlie, I came out to find him out here, asleep" His dad's voice was filled with worry as he spoke, "I told him to come inside and when he stepped out of the car he collapsed, help me get your brother inside Charlie" His dad ordered and Charlie wrapped one of his brother's arms around his shoulder and placed a hand around his brother's waist, his father did the same thing on his side and together they had carried Don inside the house and then had laid him down on the couch.

"OK" his father agreed getting up from the chair and moving to his son's side. "Charlie, bring me a wet cloth from the kitchen please son" he asked as he sat beside Don on the edge of the couch. When Charlie returned with the cloth and a bottle of water, both of which he handed his father, he stood there and waited as he watched his father try to rouse his brother from his deep slumber.

"Donnie" Alan used the wet cloth to wipe his son's face, "Donnie my boy, wake up son" Nothing…" **Donnie! You listen to me you stubborn boy, you wake up this instant!** " his father yelled using the same tone of voice he used when Charlie and Don were kids and in big trouble. Don stirred, placing an arm over his eyes and then blinking up at their father.

"Oh thank God!" Alan said.

"Dad?" Don asked blinking up at his father, then he turned his head to look around as if trying to remember where he was and how he got there; his sight landed on Charlie, "Hey Chuck, what is going on?" Don was confused, he was inside Charlie's house evidently, on his couch, although for the life of him he could not remember coming inside or sitting on the couch.

"Donnie" Don felt his father's hand on his cheek turning his head towards him, "how are you feeling son?" Don could tell his father was worried. "I'm OK Dad" he answered with is standard response, "what is going on? How I get here?" he looked from his father to his brother in hope of an explanation, "last thing I remember dad, you and I were out in the driveway"

"You collapsed bro" Charlie interjected. "I came outside to find you unconscious in dad's arms after you had evidently collapsed once you exited your car" Charlie took a seat on the chair his father had recently vacated, "you've been out cold for 12 hours bro"

"What?" Don yelled and sat up, not a good idea as the world shifted and flip flopped violently eliciting a groan from him. He felt his father's hands grip his shoulders tightly and he felt, rather than saw, for his eyes were closed against the dizziness that assaulted him, something under his chin which he hoped was some sort of container for he started to throw up in it, dry-heave really for he had not eaten much of late, still it was unpleasant and painful. Once he finished trying to remove his stomach lining from his body via his throat he flopped back against the couch's cushions with another groan. He jumped a little but settled quickly when he felt a cool cloth being run across his face with care. He opened one eye slowly and when that did not elicit another bout of dizziness or nausea he opened the other slowly, blinking away the fogginess that still lingered, to find his father holding the washcloth against his face. "Thanks dad, sorry..."

He looked up to find a water bottle being thrust upon him from Charlie which he took. "12 hours? Really?" he sighed as he drank greedily, "wow, I don't know what happened"

"I can tell you what happened Don" his father's stern voice cut in, "What happened is that YOU work too damn much and YOU worked yourself into exhaustion levels that are bad enough your body just shut down on you Donnie" His father stood up and started pacing around the living room, arms moving frantically keeping pace with his tone; "this needs to stop Donnie, you are NOT a machine you know, and contrary to what you may believe my son, you need to both sleep and eat on a regular basis to stay alive"

"I eat" Don replied, a mistake he knew, the moment the words left his lips.

"You do, do you? Really son? When pray tell, was the last time you ate a real meal, you know with plates and cutlery?" Alan stopped and stared at his first-born, knowing full well the answer was not one he would like, "well?" He pushed.

"Um…" Don said, glaring at his brother who at this point was grinning from ear to ear, probably amused that for once, their father's ire was not directed at his but at his mighty big brother, "um…what day is it again?"

"Donnie!" his father yelled, making even Charlie jump.

"I'm sorry dad, I was working, it is not like I could ask the bad guys for a lunch break you know" Don did his best to sink into the couch's cushions even further, maybe if he tried really, really hard, they will engulf him and he could disappear, to reappear on a deserted island somewhere with bikini clad women and an endless supply of cold beers...god why was he still so tired?

"That is not funny Donnie" his father balked. ( _Guess no deserted island...he sighed..._ )

"You realize that your brother and I were minutes from calling an ambulance as it was, had you not woken up when you did, YOU my dear boy would be on your way to the hospital right now" Alan paused to let that sink in, his son's eyes were closed again and he could still see lines of fatigue on his face, even after a 12-hour slumber.

"Donnie, my boy, I know that Charlie here is the math whiz of the family son, but you know that when you add 1+2 you get 3, so same thing happens in real life Don, sometimes things are just very straight forward, and if you work yourself into exhaustion, your body will give out eventually, and you don't do yourself or your team any favors"

"Well, actually…there are times when you can add 1+2 and…" Charlie's math comment was cut short by both his brother's and his father's "Not now Charlie!" making him bite his lip and fall silent again.

"So Dad?" Don asked doing his best imitation of Charlie's 'I'm cute and you have to love me face', "what's for dinner?"


End file.
